Germany's Storage Room Cleaning
by Don'tMessWithAFangirl
Summary: Germany's birthday's coming up and there's no more room left in the house for guests! When Germany starts cleaning to make room for the party guests, what happens when he stumbles upon a pushbroom that unlocks the secrets of a past he didn't know he had?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

**My sis takes credit for main prompt/idea~ I LOVE this prompt: Germany storage room cleaning, he finds the push broom italy gave to HR.**

**So much fun right? Not when half the story disappears on you and you have to write it all again! Urgggg...**

**Both human and country names used interchangably.**

**Disclaimer: Basically, if I owned Hetalia, this would be already established as an episode.**

"VE~! Doitsu! Doitsu!" Italy ran down the hall way in a panic towards his boyfriend. "We don't have enough rooms!"

"Italy. What are you talking about?" Germany looked up from his cleaning just in time to grab the Italian and stop him from turning over the bucket of soapy water he had been using to clean the floors. "We have just enough rooms! I checked!"

"Noooo~!" Italy insisted, shaking his head. "Hong Kong called! He's coming after all!"

"Really?" Germany was surprised by this, as he hadn't expected such a big turnout for his birthday. He would feel honored if it didn't mean more work for him. "Well can't we use that spare room in the east wing? It's not big, but..."

"No, Doitsu! Seychelles is in that room!" Feli corrected. "There's no room for him~!"

"There has to be!" Ludwig was surprised again. He hadn't thought Seychelles was coming. Why would she come to his birthday? He didn't even know hers! "What about... no. All I have left is storage rooms! I guess I'll have to clean one out... I've been putting it off..."

"Perfect! So I'll tell him he can stay over after all!" With that, Feliciano bounded back down the hall again, happy as can be.

"Wait! There was a choice?" By the time Germany realized he could have just told him he had to stay in a hotel, Feli was gone. 'Ah well. I should have cleaned out that storage room long ago anyway.' he thought.

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><p>"Schizer! That's a lot of stuff!" Germany cursed himself for not just telling Hong Kong that he was out of room. The storage room he had picked was of medium size, but crammed with more stuff than he could have imagined would fit. There were old clothes and old weapons and old everything, all with more than a few layers of dust. It looked like one of his earlier storage rooms, where he had just jumbled everything together instead of separating everything in piles. More recently, he had been sorting his things into a weapons room, a clothing room, and so on. He really should get rid of it all, but only so much could be annonimously donated to various museums around the country each year without raising suspicion.<p>

Brandishing his duster, Ludwig got to work sorting the objects and redistributing them to the proper rooms. It was tedious work, but every object brought back a memory. He even found Whilhelm's crown! It was actually sort of fun going back through his childhood. Then, suddenly, the objects became unfamiliar. The things he found came with no memory attatched. First, it was a small sword that he couldn't remember weilding. Then, it was a tiny black cape and hat set that looked so small that even that Kirkland brat, wouldn't fit in them. Next it was a small pushbroom. He stopped at the pushbroom for a moment. It held no memory, and it was so tiny, he couldn't possibly use it. Still, it was a broom, and Germany was never one to waste cleaning supplies, so he traveled down the hall to the cleaning closet to put it with the others.

"I wonder why I can't remember these things." Germany pondered as he walked. "Maybe Gilbert would know..." Germany decided to call his brother after he finished cleaning out the storage room just as he reached the cleaning closet. He nestled the pushbroom in with the other brooms. He had quite a collection, from 1871 to 1989. He had always kept his brooms, though he could never remember how he had gotten into that habit.

"I'll ask Gilbert about that too." He decided aloud.

"About what?"

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Oh, Italy. Don't scare me like that!" Germany tried to catch his breath after jumping 5 feet in the air.

"Sorry, Doitsu..." Italy smiled absentmindedly. And stood there. In silence. Smiling.

"...Was there something you wanted to tell me...?" Germany prompted, interupting the silence.

"Ve~! Yes! I forgot to get the streamers, Doitsu!" Feli responded.

"Oh." Germany cursed himself for putting Feli on anything other than food. "Well I guess I could go out now... I'll finish cleaning out the room when I get back."

"Okay! I'll go make pasta!" Feli started towards the kitchen but Germany stopped him.

"No, Feliciano!" The last thing Ludwig needed was another bowl of pasta! Feli got very depressed if you didn't eat it all, but he gave you so much that you couldn't possibly fit it into one stomach! "Why don't you work on the posters! We need a poster for over the gift table and a present for over the food table. And the food is not only pasta, so it needs to say food. Don't make a sign that says pasta."

"Ve~! No problem!" Italy sloppily saluted to his boyfriend. "I will make such pretty posters, they will be even prettier than Doitsu, which is hard because Doitsu is so pretty!"

"Perfect." Germany blushed at the complement, but turned towards the door to hide the blush. "I will be back in less than an hour."

"Okay!" Italy waved goodbye to his boyfriend. "See you later!"

"Bye!"

The minute Germany was gone, Feliciano raced to the kitchen. He grabbed a mixing bowl and a spoon, setting the oven to 350 degrees on the way to the cabinet. He would need german sweet chocolate, all-purpose flour, baking soda, salt, butter, sugar, eggs...

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><p>Germany was at a loss. He could handle war, he could handle cleaning, he could even handle his adorable idiot boyfriend, but give him 50 different streamer choices and he crumbles.<p>

"There are just so many!" he dispaired. "Do I buy the cheap purple ones? The expensive green ones? The set of rainbow? Ribbons? Tape? WHAT DO I DO?"

"First birthday party?" a sympathetic mother came over to the baffled country, a toddler on her hip and a child in between her legs.

"It certainly seems that way." He replied dejectedly.

"Boy or girl?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Okay, so I start with a short chapter, but they will get longer I promise! **

**I wasn't planning on it, but I think I like this helpful motherly figure, so I might drag her part out a bit more. In fact, I'm planning on dragging this story out a LOT. This may be my first major multi chap! Even more than 4 or 5 chapters! I hope I don't get bored! D:**

**I shall try to make this magnificent!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

**Yay! This is starting to become my top priority story (which is not good cuz I still haven't finished my story for Naffy...)**

**New Poll up! C'mon people! Let this fangirl know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I WISH I owned Hetalia, but everyone should probably be glad I don't**.

* * *

><p>While Germany was being rescued by a helpful mother hen, Feli was cooking up a storm.<p>

"Ve~! Doitsu will love this! A German Chocolate Cake! Named after him too!" Feli exclaimed. He hummed a song he had learned in Mr. Austria's house as he stirred. He had to be quick so that he could get those signs done!

"Mmm hmmmmm hm mmm hmmm mmm hmm mm hmmm..." He whirled around to put the mixing bowl next to the pan on the island, thankful for the large kitchen his boyfriend had installed for him when he moved in. He poured the batter in the pan and picked up the empty glass bowl.

"HET-A-LI-AAAAA~!" With a final spin, Feli turned back to the counter when suddenly his foot landed in a puddle of water he had spilled and went crashing down. The bowl he had been holding went flying into the air, landing somewhere behind him in the spacious kitchen, shattering. "VE! OH NO!"

Italy was unharmed, but the kitchen was a mess. He needed to clean it up before Germany got home! He practically threw the cake in the oven, then dashed down to the cleaning closet to get a broom a mop and whatever else he needed. He wasn't sure.

When he opened the closet, some brooms fell out, almost tumbling him back. "Wow. Ludwig sure has a lot of brooms..." Italy thought to himself, shoving back the painful memory that was threatening to surface. He haphazardly gathered the mops in his arms and threw them into the closet, only succeeding in making a bigger mess. He was about to try again when a certain broom caught his eye.

'No...' Italy opened his eyes wide. After all these years... this couldn't be it... There was no way...

A name bubbled to the tip of Italy's tongue, a name he hadn't spoken in a long time.

_"Holy Rome..."_

* * *

><p>"What's his favorite color?"<p>

"Um..."

"Don't tell me you don't know his favorite color!"

"Well... Red, I suppose..."

"Oh! Very popular boy's color" The questioning had been going on and on, and Germany was simply baffled.

"Is that so?" Half of him wanted to politely exit the conversation, and the other half wanted to beg her just to choose for him.

"So what's the theme of the party?" The American woman asked, moving the toddler on her hip up a bit. **[The woman was from america just because it worked well. She moved there recently...?]**

"Theme?" In all his years of birthdays, he had never realized how much thought went into streamers. "Germany, I suppose..."

"Oh, so you're trying to get into the ethnic thing, huh? Well I suppose you have four choices."

"And those would be?" Ludwig was getting imaptient with this woman.

"You could do the obvious boy color blue and be done with it, you could do the favorite color red, you could do both red and blue... or you could go big with the theme and do red, yellow and black, but black isn't great for a kid's party..."

"Nine! It's perfect!" Glad the woman had FINALLY gotten to the good idea he had been hoping for, he grabbed a few red yellow and black rolls of streamers and practically fled.

"Nice meeting you too." The woman grumbled sarcastically. "Jeez!"

At the check out, there were even more delays, as another American woman had apparently decided to buy the whole freaking store! Ludwig tried to contain his frustration. Since when was his country full of annoying Americans? **[I can say this because I am American, therefore reserve the right to make fun of my own country]**

After what seemed like fifty years, Germany finally paid for his streamers and left the store. In the parking lot, he ran to his car and got in quickly. The trip had taken longer than he had anticipated and he needed to get home before Italy did something stupid. He drove as quickly as he dared, as he still needed to do so much before the party next week. He was hoping to get the room cleared out today, but he finish it tomorrow...

Before long, Ludwig was home, but when he walked in the door, he smelled the alarming odor of smoke coming from the kitchen.

"ITALY! FELICIAN-!" Germany raced into the kitchen to find a cake burning in the oven, but no Feli. After turning the oven off, and removing the cake within it, Germany went on a search for his boyfriend. He didn't have to go far. "Feli...?"

* * *

><p>Feliciano heard his boyfriend's shouts, but it was like he was underwater. The sound was far away. The only thing that mattered was a broom. The pushbroom that he was clutching to his chest.<p>

"Holy Rome..." That name that he loved so long ago...

_What happened to you, Holy Rome? I made you sweets for when you come home. They became moldy, so I made you more. I discovered something wonderful, Holy Rome. I discovered pasta. You would like pasta, so I make it for you, for when you get home. When will you be home, Holy Rome? Won't you come home to me?_

* * *

><p>"Feli! What's wrong?" Germany panicked. Italy was on the floor in a puddle of brooms, holding the pushbroom Germany had just uncovered that day in the storage room. "Feli?" He knelt down, clearing the excess brooms away. He could tell that something was terribly wrong.<p>

"Holy Rome..." Italy chanted softly, tears streaming down his face. "Holy Rome..."

They sat there all day. Germany had no idea what to do, so he held his boyfriend, while the Italian murmured 'Holy Rome' over and over until his voice was horse and he had no tears left to shed.

* * *

><p>That night, Ludwig had a weird dream. A small child with auburn hair was in front of him. It must have been a girl because it was in a dress. She looked like Italy, but it couldn't be him because it was a girl. In the dream, Germany was looking out of someone's eyes, as if he were them. The person he 'was' had the pushbroom from the storage room in his hands. His dream-form started talking.<p>

"Why would this remind me of you?" The voice sounded nothing like Ludwig's voice. It was Italian, he was sure of it. Could he be in Italy's body? No... It wasn't Italy's voice either. Too low. Suddenly his thoughts were interupted by a flash of images of the girl in front of him and a small boy, who looked amazingly like Germany as a kid.

And suddenly, the dream was over, leaving Ludwig increadibly confused.

* * *

><p>The next day, no matter what Ludwig did or said, Italy would not stop making pasta. He churned out a steady stream the entire day, filing the counters, the tables, and even part of the floor with bowls and bowls of pasta, so much so that the large pasta stock they kept in the house had almost run out by sunset.<p>

Seeing nothing he could do, Germany relucently went back to preparing for the party, though in the current state of the house and its occupants, he doubted it would even happen.

First he called Hong Kong, informing him that Italy was mistaken and they were all out of room, but that he was welcome to the party as long as he didn't expect a room. From the stoic way he explained that he would room with Taiwan, Germany had no idea how he felt about the arrangement, but considering Taiwan's room had only one bed, Germany had a feeling Hong Kong didn't mind too much. Next, Germany threw the pushbroom into the half empty storage room he had started cleaning the other day and shut the door tight. He wouldn't be going back in there any time soon.

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><p><strong>Oh wow! This is going much faster than I anticipated! But guys. I got 94 visitors yesterday! And only a handful of reviews :( <strong>  
><strong>Show some love! Flames will be used to roast marshmellows!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **

**Yay! Reviews! I love you all! *happy dance* **

**I'm kind of putting this on the backburner because I really want to finish Adorable or Deadly before summer break as that has been going on for longer. This might even span into to a full-fledged STORY with PLOT before I finish, so it'll take a little longer, and you'll just have to stay with me and modivate me with reviews *hinthint* :P**

**Now I suppose you want an actual chapter here, so I'll comply...**

Germany was at his wits end. the streamers were up and stunning, the great room was clean and ready for use, there was enough beer for five parties, and the rooms were all filled to the brim. Everything was ready, everything was clean, everything was settled. That is, until you reached the kitchen. Germany didn't even attempt entry, not that he would have known how to navigate past the plates and bowls and pots and pans of pasta, pasta and more pasta. Sauce splattered every flat surface and then some, the dish cabinets were all almost empty, and in the middle of this perfect pasta storm was Feli.

He was the most frazzled Ludwig had ever seen him. Moving at lightening speed, he made the pasta, filled pots with water and then added pasta after it boiled and then put it through the colander when it was cooked and then dumped it in a bowl, over and over and over again. Occasionally, he would shift around plates, trying to clear some sort of path.

He was torn between two of the most significant times - and men - in his life. He had to make pasta for when Holy Rome got back, but he had to clean everything up before Germany got mad at him. It was a whirlwind of confusion in Italy's mind, and he ignored it all, robotically making his pasta. Cleaning and pasta, pasta then cleaning.

Sometimes Ludwig would show up in the doorway, and sometimes it was Holy Rome. Sometimes he would just break down and cry, burning a batch of pasta. He hid those on the bottom of the piles.

Finally, at the end of the day, he abruptly turned off the stove in the middle of cooking a batch of pasta, uncharacteristically solomn as he zombie-walked to his room with bags under his eyes and his head bowed in defeat. His eyes were empty and broken, with no more tears left to spill. Ludwig died a little inside, as Italy passed him, going to a guest room and not the room they usually share.

Feli shed his sauce-splattered, water-splashed, flour-covered clothes down to his underwear, and climbed into bed, too drained to put on his nightclothes.

Suddenly, the door opened a bit, allowing Germany to come in. He wordlessly climbed into the bed, arranging himself so that he was cuddling his boyfriend, holding him safely in his arms. It was the only way he knew how to help.

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><p>The next day, Germany decided he needed to do something. He needed to find out what all that stuff in the storage room was. Feli had finally stopped cooking pasta, but Germany almost wished he hadn't stopped, because instead of making the pasta, he was sitting in it, devoid of emotion and empty of tears. He was perched on top of the hill of food, looking out into the empty space before him as if waiting for something he knew in his heart would never come.<p>

Frustrated, Ludwig grabbed the phone and stompped across the room to sit on his bed. He landed heavily on the matress as he dialed.

"Hello, The Awesome Gilbert speaking!" Ludwig's insufferable older brother answered the phone in his usual self-centered way.

"Gilbert. Something is wrong with Feliciano" Ludwig explained solomnly.

"No!" To his credit, the Prussian actually seemed concerned. "What's wrong with that cute little Italian now? Did he get captured again? And you need the awesome me to get him out? No prob-!"

"Shut UP!" Ludwig was never the most patient, especially with his brother. "If it was capturing, I could deal with it myself!"

"Yeah, like you delt with-"

"I WILL SHOOT YOU IN ZE HEAD!" Germany tried collecting himself before resuming the conversation. "I was cleaning out one of my older storage rooms, when I found some things I couldn't remember. At first, it was only a tiny sword, cape, and hat, but then I found a push broom, but when Feli saw it, he broke down crying!"

"Oh! That's the stuff you came with." Prussia replied casually.

"_Came_ with?" Confused and more than a little frustrated, Germany tried to get his brother to elaborate.

"Yeah." Gilbert replied. "I found you in a tent, all beat up and covered with battle wounds with serious amnesia. You had only a few things in the tent with you and it sounds like you finally found them again!"

"But how would Italy recognize them and not me?" Germany asked, confused. He was disturbed that Gilbert had never before informed him of his beginnings.

"I don't know, Bruder." Prussia shrugged, unseen by his brother. "Maybe he knew you in another life." Gil laughed obnoxiously and hung up abbruptly, muttering something about a Canadian arriving.

'Hmmm' Germany thought 'Another life... maybe.'

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><p><strong>Okay, so this has been sitting in my Doc Manager for WAAAAY too long! Here;s your (very short) long overdue chapter. Sorry it's not more (or better quality) but I have the WORST writer's block with this thing, and it won't go away! It's not helping that any time I try to write this one I lose all my work cuz my computer spazzes out on me! Either way, it may be a while for this one, so I figured I would at least be able to get you what I have with this chapter...<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

**You all must help me in bowing down to the most amazing person I have ever had the honor to meet. No, not Naffy. Not my sister. Not either of my own parents, nor any of my friends in school, though all of these people come very close. **

**Kunai Youki is this fantastic person. Check the reviews for this, and she will be in there. HER REVIEW IS SO LONG IT DIDN"T FIT ON MY SCREEN! I HAD TO SCROLL DOWN! Do you know how FANTASTIC this makes her? And the entire review is completely thoughtful and interesting! I'm not saying I expect that long a review from everyone, but if you could take a moment to review at the end of this chapter, you too would be added to the unwritten list of awesome people I keep in my brain. This is also an apology to her, though, because even though all her suggestions were so great, I kinda just wanted to wrap this up, as I am getting tired of it. **

**Have I done a disclaimer yet? I don't remember... Well just in case:**

**I DO NOT OWN ZE HETALIA! Is it Himaruya? That's the guy's name, right? Well whoever it is, IT ISN"T ME.**

After hanging up the phone and checking to make sure Italy wasn't in any trouble, Germany decided he needed a nap. There was nothing he could do at the moment, and unless Italy magically becomes lucid (which he never really was in the first place) or Germany magically regains memories that had been gone for years, there was no way to find out what happened to him before Prussia found him.

Laying down on his bed, he immediately started slipping away, until he was completely asleep.

_"Oh no don't go! Please! What will I do without you? Don't leave me! NO!" Germany heard the girl from last dream calling to him from behind. _

_He turned around to see her offer up a push broom. Germany recognized it as the push broom that he had found in the closet. _

_"Here. Take-a this with you." She said. __"Maybe... it will help you think of me. And then... then you won't forget about me"_

_"Oh. A pushbroom. But why would that remind me of you?" Dream-Germany asked the girl. Then suddenly, a flash of memories crossed over Germany's sight, all with him and the girl and the pushbroom. He recognized them as the flashbacks that had occured in his earlier dream._

_"Italy..." _

Germany's eyes snapped open. Italy? That didn't make sense! He wasn't a girl!

Ludwig sat up fast, dangling his legs over the side of the bed, but only to do something. He had no idea where these dreams were coming from, and no way to confirm anything. Unless...

"What's up bastardo?" Romano answered the phone angrily.

"How did you know it was me?" Germany asked, taken aback.

"Oh, Potato. Why the fuck are you calling me?"

"I want to know something about Feliciano... It may sound a bit awkward-"

"I don't have any fucking sex information if that's what you're calling about."

"No, I-"

"Despite all those fucking fansites there is no such thing as itacest!"

"What? All I meant-"

"I know what you meant you sick bastardo! Feliciano may be dumb enough to hang out with you, but I know your secrets!"

"What secrets-?"

_"IF YOU DO ANYTHING TO MI FRATELLO I TELL YOU I WILL-"_

"ROMANO! I just called to ask if Italy ever wore a dress when he was younger!" Germany shouted, ending Romano's anrgy rantings.

"You saw the pictures did you? That Austrian bastardo made him wear it when he was little, the sicko." There was what sounded like someone knocking on the door on Romano's end, and then the Italian hung up rudely before Germany could speak.

Collecting his thoughts, Germany tried to make sense of it all.

So Italy wore a dress when he was younger.

And he has been having dreams about a child wearing a dress who is called Italy.

And he has been missing memories.

And the child he has 'been' in these dreams looks like a little him.

"In another life..." Germany repeats what Gilbert had said to him. It made sense. Maybe Italy did know him in another life...

Germany thinks back to when Italy first saw the pushbroom, and he kept muttering "Holy Rome". Maybe Romano would know what 'Holy Rome' meant.

Grabbing his coat, Germany left the house, but not before checking on his boyfriend, who was still sitting on his Pasta Hill looking forlorn. Germany adopted a determined expression as he marched out the door and drove to Austria's house.

_Knock Knock Knock_

"Oh, Hello Germany." Austria answered the door.

"Hello Austria. I know it is a bit sudden, but I need to discuss something with you." Germany stated very seriously.

"Of course, come in." Roderich gestured to the couch, where Elizabeta was already sitting. "Is it something very serious, or can Elizabeta stay?"

"It is very serious, but I suppose she can stay. It is nothing top secret." Germany replied. He felt bad for barging in on them, but he needed answers now.

"Okay. Now what is it you need to discus with me?" Roderich sat next to a curious Elizabeta while Ludwig sat in a chair facing them.

"It's about Italy. I know you looked after him as a child, and I was wondering if he ever mentioned a 'Holy Rome'." Germany stated. Roderich looked a little taken aback.

"Of course! Holy Roman Empire had the most pathetic crush on Italy. He chased her all around, trying to get her to join him" Austria replied.

"In the end, she tried to stop him, but he went anyway, of course." Elizabeta added sadly. "_Men_."

"Stop him?" Germany asked.

"He went to war to gain more power.**(historically correct?)**" Hungary answered. "The poor thing worked tirelessly to make sweets for him when he got back, but he never did. Come back, I mean."

"What happened to him?"

"We don't really know." Austria sighed. "But whatever happened, he's not alive now."

"How do you know? Gilbert's still alive." Ludwig pointed out.

"If he were alive, he would have come back for Italy. I'm sure of it." Hungary replied. "Girl or boy, Italy was the love of his life."

"But then how did you stop the grieving? How did he become happy again?" Germany asked. She gave him a look of pure sympathy.

"I don't know. He just did one day. He snapped back into life before, as if Holy Rome had never existed." Elizabeta gazed down at the glass table. "But still at night, he would cry in his room. That stopped after a few months, but he never really was the same. He always needed someone to sleep with him after that. Could never stand to be alone."

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><p>On the drive home, Germany had a whole new problem. He felt bad for it, but he couldn't help the stab of jealousy. Italy had seen one pushbroom and had fallen to the brink of insanity because of her dead love. If Germany were dead, would it be the same? Somehow, he had a hard time believing that it would be, and that fact alone twisted and knotted his belly. Not only that, but he still had no idea how to cure Feli. If Liz was to be believed, it would stop on its own, but only after a few painful months. Germany wouldn't leave him, but he couldn't stand seeing him like this for MONTHS! There had to be another way!<p>

**SO not very long, but it's something, eh? I hope to write more later, with Germany talking to Romano, and of course the ending! That will happen next chapter. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, PLEASE!**

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

**SO MUCH APOLOGIZING RIGHT NOW. I truly am sorry for the long wait, but I had no inspiration and there was some schtuff going on in my life too, but now I'm back and I'm hoping to be back for good now. Thank you for all my lovely reviews. You have no idea what it means to me when I get a review, and especially recently, when I just needed a good pick-me-up. The people in this fandom, and particularly for this fanpairing have been so nice, and I just want you to know that I am eternally grateful. **

**Enough with the mushy stuff! Here's your chapter! :3**

_Knock Knock Knock_

"Romano. ...I know you're in there!"

**_Knock Knock Knock_**

"Open the door, dammit!"

**_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_**

"I'M NOT HERE TO LEARN ABOUT ANY WEIRD SEX THING!"

Suddenly the door opened to a pissed off, rumpled Romano with a half naked Antonio in the background.

"What do you want bastardo!"

"I just want to know how I can get Italy to stop grieving for this Holy Rome guy!" Germany explained rather callously.

"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK-A THAT NAME IN THIS HOUSE!" Romano was suddenly on Germany, throttling him. Luckily, Antonio rushed forward and ripped Romano off him.

"What ze hell?" Germany exclaimed, retuning to his feet. "Roderich and Elizabeta did not react this way!"

"Of course they didn't, the bastardos!" Germany had never seen this much emotion in Romano's eyes. What was it about this guy that made the Italies so emotional? "They thought they had their cute little Feli back. _I_ knew the truth! My fratello has been paying for that bastardo's mistakes his whole life!"

"So he _never_ got over him?" This was a serious blow to Germany, who had thought that Italy and he had been in a mutually loving relationship for the past few years.

"Oh of course in the past few years he had called me blubbering less and less, but he still calls occasionally." Romano answered bluntly.

"Maybe we take this into the living room. I'll make some paella." Antonio said gently, guiding his boyfriend's stiff shoulders towards the couch before heading into the kitchen.

"No more fucking paella, bastardo!" Romano's tone was cross, but it was well known that he not only loved Antonio but his paella as well.

"Okay, churros" And with that, Antonio was gone.

"So Italy never really loved me..." Germany asked Romano insecurely. It was clear to him now that he had always been a prop, a stand in for Italy's real love.

"Don't be thick, bastardo." Romano considered lying to the potato-eater, but figured that it would only cause Italy to come crying to him again. "Even though I told him not to, he fell in love with you, the idiot. He loves both of you, which just shows his excellent taste." Trying to make his sarcasm biting enough to make up for telling the truth, he studied Germany's face.

Hope, love, concern, jealously, and seriousness all passed through Germany's eyes. Then his expression settled into resignation.

"I guess this means I can never ease his grieving." Germany turned to go, a dejected look on his face.

"Ludwig." Romano's serious tone of voice and use of his actual name made Ludwig turn around. "If you so much as hurt one hair on my brother's head I will kill you."

"I understand. And I would never."

Satisfied with their agreement, Romano settled down into his couch, waiting for his churros. Germany just left.

* * *

><p>Ludwig was halfway between cursing the world and crying his eyes out. He was filled with jealous rage and inconsolable sadness and deep love for a man who could never fully love him back. Cute little Feli and his pasta swirled around in his mind mixing with images from long ago of a child in a dress and a pushbroom.<p>

Thus it was no surprise to anyone that he crashed straight into a telephone pole.

Luckily, he wasn't hurt, but the car was wrecked beyond repair, as the whole right side had smashed. Frustrated and hurt, Germany took out his anger on an unfortunate steering wheel that happened to be in front of him. Tears pouring down his face, he smashed and punched and threw all his body weight onto it until it broke.

Then, he calmly took out his phone and called his brother to pick him up.

"You got in a car accident?" Gilbert asked, teasingly astonished. "Mr. 'No, you can't drive my car because you'll crash it and I won't' got into a car accident? AND IT WAS HIS FAULT! KESSESESESESES~! I'll be right there"

Then he hung up gleefully (if that's even possible).

Germany just sighed and leaned his head back onto the somehow-unmarred headrest behind him. Five minutes later, an obnoxious sound filled his ears. A few minutes after that, he could actually see Gilbert's car coming over the hill. The noise was deafening.

"WILL YOU TURN THAT DOWN?" Ludwig shouted over the roar. "I HAVE A BROKEN CAR; I DO NOT WAT BROKEN EARS AS WELL! SCHIZER!"

"Wow, bruder. Bad day?" Gilbert asked with a smirk, turning the music down so that his awesome voice could be heard.

"I should think so!" Germany roared. "First I learn that Italy never got over his childhood sweetheart who died, and then my car broke down, and NOW YOU'RE HERE!"

Instead of pointing out that Ludwig did call him, Gilbert leaned forward. "Italy? What happened to him?" Gilly had always had a soft spot for the little Italian.

"He..." At this point, Ludwig leaned against his car, exhausted. "He never truly loved me. He was just using me as a replacement for his true love who died a long time ago."

"Now THAT I don't believe." Prussia shook his head. "I've seen Feli around you. He's madly in love! He gives you_ the look_."

"The look...?" Germany asked doubtfully.

"Yeah!" If Gilbert picked up the doubt, he didn't show it. "As if you were the kindest, bravest, awesomest person ever. As if you were the center of his world!"

"But then why would he be mourning so completely for his other love? Why call his brother in the middle of the night to cry and vent?" Germany could hardly believe he was asking his brother about this.

"He misses him. It's not a crime." Gilbert explained in a rare moment of compassion and actual older brother duty. "He was once a large part of Italy's life and he misses him. But trust me, bruder. He loves you."

Germany felt a little better after Gil's speech, but he was still faced with a huge problem. He didn't know how to proceed with his life from now on, or how Italy was either.

"So I'm guessing the party's gonna be called off?" Gilbert asked his brother on the ride home.

"Party?" Germany had been so wrapped up in the Push Broom Mystery that he had completely forgotten about his birthday. "Oh, right, well I suppose. I'm not exactly in the mood to party, and neither is Italy."

"That's a shame." Prussia commented. The rest of the ride was silent, something Ludwig was grateful for. Prussia may not have been the best big brother, but he was there when it really counted.

* * *

><p>When Germany went home, he checked on Italy and made him eat something, then went to bed early. The day had been exhausting. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep and dreaming.<p>

_"We are losing, Holy Roman Empire!" A soldier burst into the tent Germany had suddenly been transported to. He couldn't feel anything, but he somehow knew he was injured badly. Judging by his angle, he was lying on a cot. _

_"Thank you for stating the obvious, General Roettger" A soldier replied on his behalf. The soldier was sitting on a chair by his bed. By the way the younger soldier reddened and fled the room, Germany could tell that the man beside him had great authority._

_"I'm not going to make it." This time it was Ger- Holy Rome that spoke. _

_"We will fight." The man stated determinately. _

_"You will fight... and I will die..." Breathing was becoming hard. Germany looked around the room, noticing the tiny sword from the closet and then..._

_The Pushbroom._

When Germany awoke, he was completely disoriented. There was a feeling of desperateness that he needed to get home to Italy, but he WAS home with Italy. He shook his head and said to himself, "Maybe-" but then forgot when he was going to say. His voice had suddenly become Italian.

"What the-!" Okay, back to normal. No one had to know.

**A/N: I'm going to end this here, because I want to drag it out another chapter. Again, sorry for the long wait, and I hope to have the next chapter up soon!**

**Hopefully...  
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